


Tear You Apart

by indoorsy



Category: Harvest Moon, Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town, Story of Seasons: Friends of Mineral Town (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, But not on purpose, Cheating, Drama, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mutually Dubious Consent, Non-Explicit Sex, Romance, Sex Pollen, So much angst, Some Supernatural Elements, Suicide Attempt, Unrequited Love (Kind of), yes his name is still Doctor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indoorsy/pseuds/indoorsy
Summary: Claire had grown up believing in the prospect of soulmates as something incredibly joyous. It sounded just like a fairytale – like the ones her grandpa would tell her about the goddess in the pond – except, somehow, this one was true. A first touch that would ignite your skin, fill you with dizzying euphoria, and magnetize you to one another – it sounded like a divine blessing.But now Claire knew it was a curse.-Your soulmate isn't always the one you are meant to love, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt like hell.
Relationships: Claire the Farmer/Brandon (Mineral Town), Claire the Farmer/Doctor Trent | Torre (Harvest Moon), Elli/Doctor Trent | Torre (Harvest Moon)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Tear You Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Big TW: attempted suicide
> 
> Mineral Town but as a Soulmate!AU where people find their soulmates via physical touch.
> 
> I just had to get this angsty idea out of my brain so... enjoy!

Things never seemed to change much in Mineral Town.

The community was small and tight-knit, somewhat insulated and mostly self-sufficient, yet they welcomed the occasional drifter with open arms. Seasons passed by like clockwork, each one comforting in its sameness to the previous year, in a perpetual cycle of green life into icy dormancy. Doctor had no reason to believe this year would be any different.

_Tick-tock, tick-tock._

He had a peculiar habit of remembering exact times. The numbers tended to stick to his mind like stubborn burrs.

At the age of eight, he had his first piano recital. He looked at the clock at 6:12 PM and had the sinking realization that his parents wouldn't be attending. It was the first in a long chain of disappointments.

Years later, the earth seemed to shift under his feet as he pressed a cold phone against his ear. He found out he would no longer have the chance to make amends with his parents. It was 8:33 AM.

Despite everything, he decided to follow in his parents' footsteps. He opened the envelope containing his acceptance to medical school at 2:47 PM.

At 9:00 AM, he unlocked the door to his own private practice. He saw his first patient thirty minutes later.

After a long night of self-doubt and introspection, he finally realized the feelings he had for his doting nurse went beyond just appreciation and admiration. The clock read 12:26 AM.

The very next day, under the reprieve of the summer sunset, she accepted him fully. He glanced to his watch: 8:11 PM.

And when the town's newest farmer first walked into his office, with an odd air of electricity around her, it was 1:17 PM.

Something strange happened when she shook his hand. It was something his logical mind did not want to accept as fact.

There was a sudden warmth – like the feeling of basking in sunlight. It felt almost magnetic, causing his heart to race and his stomach to flip. He was light-headed and dizzy with an anxious kind of excitement, as if he were atop a rollercoaster before its biggest drop.

The doctor was trembling as he yanked his hand away from hers.

She stared at him in astonishment, her round face flushed crimson as tears welled in her eyes. She trembled, too.

“You're my… you're my…” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she raised an unsteady finger at the doctor. “S-s… Soul–”

The doctor lurched backward away from her. She flinched at the sudden movement and looked to him with a confused expression.

“I'm sorry,” the doctor spoke as levelly as he could manage, despite the pounding in his chest. “I am already spoken for. It would be best for you to… forget about this.” He nodded gravely as his eyes met hers. There was a silent pleading etched into his expression.

The farmer balled her hands into tight fists as they fell limply at her sides. Her blonde hair cloaked her face as she looked down at the floor. When she brought her head back up, tears were streaming down her cheeks in two steady lines.

“I, I see,” she spoke between shaky breaths. “I'm… I'm sorry, too.”

She wiped her sleeve across her eyes as she gave a quiet, shuddering sob.

The doctor was frozen in place. The sympathy he may have felt for her was decisively overruled by an unshakeable sense of fear.

She took one final glance at the doctor's unchanging demeanor before running out of the office.

After he heard the clinic's front door close behind her, the doctor sank into his chair. A sudden wave of relief rushed through him – but questions continued muddling his brain.

Of course, he was aware of the “soulmate” phenomenon. There were even residents within Mineral Town who claimed to have found their own. It was too fantastical of a concept for him to grasp fully, though. He erred on the side of skepticism – perhaps it was just an example of confirmation bias among wishful romantics. The physical sensations described by those who experienced it all seemed to have probable biological explanations, after all. He wasn't convinced.

Until now.

He leaned forward against his desk with his head in his hands and sighed.

The sound of the office's curtain swishing open suddenly ripped him from his thoughts.

“Doctor!” his beloved nurse, Elly, began to scold him with puffed cheeks. “What happened to Claire? She ran out of the clinic looking pretty upset…” Elly's expression softened and shifted to concern as she noticed the doctor's own unwell appearance. “Doctor?”

He looked up at her, somewhat dazed. “Elly…” he began. He could feel his heart clench as he met her worried doe-eyes. There was no doubt in his mind – Elly was his true love.

Elly sighed softly as she brought a hand to his face. “Don't overdo it, okay? We can talk later.”

The doctor simply nodded, holding his own hand against Elly's before pulling it toward his mouth and kissing it gently. “You know I love you,” he murmured against her hand.

Elly gave a quizzical look before giggling. “Yes, I know. I love you, too.” She pulled her hand away and looked at him with playful sternness. “You should get back to work now,” she said with a smile.

He weakly returned the smile and watched as she left, the ruffles of her dress trailing behind her. He picked up his pen and attempted to resume working, but it was almost as if the documents in front of him were in a different language entirely.

He realized his heart was still racing.

* * *

It had been over a year since that fateful encounter between the doctor and Claire. They mostly managed to avoid each other – keeping safe distances at festivals and being mindful of each other's schedules around town. Doctor convinced Elly that she had anxiety regarding male physicians, so Elly was put in charge of Claire's medical needs. They seemed to get along well enough, though the doctor had never disclosed a word about being “soulmates.”

The anxiety of the situation still ate away at him and incessantly plagued his mind like a gnat. During his tender moments with Elly, the thoughts sometimes grew louder like a white noise he couldn't turn off. He loved Elly, of _course_ he did, he loved her in a way he would have never realized he was capable of _without_ her – but the noise never ceased.

He felt as if he were going insane.

His current research studies had pivoted entirely to the “soulmate” phenomenon to gain a better grasp of what he was experiencing – and hopefully, how to remedy it. When Elly discovered his books, he explained away his fixation by using one of his patients as a convenient front.

Lillia, the local poultry farmer with a weak constitution, had found her soulmate. She remained fiercely loyal to him despite his years of absence. Listening to her describe the sensation – a pleasant warmth, the feeling of being drawn to one another, an almost dizzying euphoria – confirmed the worst of the doctor's fears.

He had discovered something interesting from the endless texts he had consumed. There was some amount of research to suggest that a prolonged separation from one's established soulmate could worsen their physical condition. The doctor found this especially harrowing.

This research into the separation of soulmates was the guise he used to continue his studies.

The doctor seemed to hit a wall with the medical texts he combed through. They could describe the existence of this phenomenon, yet none could pinpoint a tangible explanation for _why_ it occurred. This was maddening to the logic-minded doctor. Some insinuated it may have a biological basis, perhaps as the result of innate genetic compatibility or even the possibility of pheromones, but nothing was close to conclusive.

When the doctor reached out to his old friend and mentor, Dr. Hardy of Forgotten Valley, he received a stern warning. Apparently, more information about soulmate bonds and how to manipulate them _did_ exist, yet not within the medical field. It was arcane knowledge, and Dr. Hardy warned his young colleague to take heed and avoid such texts at all cost.

But Doctor could not resist the siren song of more knowledge.

* * *

Claire's farm had been completely revitalized within the last year. Crops grew plentifully and were of excellent quality – the superstitious part of Claire's brain thanked the blessings of the Goddess for her success. She made an honest living from her crops and animal products. It was enough to live comfortably, yet she still had the freedom to roam the outdoors and maintain her friendships with the townspeople.

She quickly became a beloved community member with her earnest greetings, patient ear, and the way she shared her bounty with the residents as if it were a matter of course.

One resident, however, was valued above the rest.

Claire sat beneath her usual tree upon Mother's Hill with her fishing pole gripped within her hands. Her lover's head rested contentedly in her lap.

“Ohh – ah! Damn it!”

She tossed her fishing pole against the ground, tangling the line in the process, after another fish escaped her hook.

“What a vulgar word from such a delicate mouth,” the man spoke from her lap, placing his finger to her lips. She swatted at him with a huff. “I kid, I kid,” he chuckled.

“You're lucky I love you,” she chided, bringing her hands against his cheeks to squish them playfully. “Or else I would have moved you off my lap a long time ago. My legs are falling asleep.”

He sat up, pulling Claire onto his own lap. “Allow me to share the burden,” he began, wrapping his arms around her waist. His hands slid across the musculature of her body. “Mm, my darling muse. You are so beautifully sculpted.”

“That's a big compliment coming from a master sculptor,” she retorted, resting her head against his chest.

“Not a compliment,” he deadpanned, “simply an observation.”

She seemed pleased with that response as she pressed a quick kiss against his lips.

They were the town's odd couple – the friendly, laid-back farm girl and the enigmatic, out-of-touch artist. No one was quite sure how their relationship began (though the rumors involved woodcutting and desserts), but somehow, she had managed to worm her way through his defenses and become an irreplaceable fixture in his life.

Claire heaved a sigh as she watched plump, fluffy clouds float through the sky. “Hey, Brandon,” she spoke softly.

“Hrm?” His eyes fixed on her somewhat sad expression – a familiar one that often fleeted across her face. It was something that had intrigued him since they first met.

“Sometimes I wish I didn't care so much about what other people think of me.” Her head lolled back onto his chest. “Keeping up with everyone has been a bit tiring lately,” she mumbled against him.

“Well then, you ought to just emulate my own paradigm. I don't have any particular regard for others' opinions aside from my own.” When he felt her pout against his chest, he added, “And yours, of course. I view you as an extension of myself.”

“Nice save,” she murmured. Her lips turned up into a smile as she spoke. She looked back to his face and continued, “You make it sound so easy. I really envy you.”

“I appreciate our differences,” Brandon spoke firmly. “You act as a foil to me. It's quite astounding, really. It's as if our spirits were destined to meld.”

Claire flinched at those words. “Destiny,” she mumbled disdainfully. “I prefer serendipity.”

Brandon leaned back against the tree as he gave her words thought. “Yes, I suppose that's acceptable, too,” he replied after a pause.

Claire also paused before speaking. “Hey,” she eventually chirped.

“Yes, dear?” Brandon responded patiently as he ran his hand through her hair.

Claire's heart started to beat faster. “Do you… believe in soulmates?”

“Hrm? Well, my belief in something is irrelevant to whether or not it actually exists, yes?” His hand went still against her hair. “But… about that phenomenon. I would wager that it is a factual experience.” He continued weaving his fingers within her hair, his fingertips lightly caressing her scalp. “Are you, perhaps… dissatisfied with me as a partner? Causing you to ponder such things?”

“No, of course not!” Claire's head snapped up as she looked to Brandon with widened eyes. “I'm sorry if I made it sound that way. I just… it's a strange thing to imagine, right?” She laughed nervously. “But I guess… we did see Popuri run off with Kai, saying they were soulmates… the way they described it was pretty convincing…” There was an edge of forlornness to her voice.

“But it's a statistical improbability,” Brandon quickly retorted. “I don't see any benefit to dwelling upon it.”

“Yeah, but,” Claire began with a sigh. “Just reassure me for a moment.” She hugged Brandon tightly before continuing, “If you, somehow, despite all statistical improbability, met your soulmate… would you stay with me?” Claire squeezed her eyes shut immediately.

“Mm.” Brandon rubbed comforting circles against Claire's back. “Yes. Of course. I am certain that you complete me. It would be foolish and unwise to gamble upon an unknown person, regardless of any phenomenon. Besides…” His hand squeezed at her side. “Is it not more romantic to choose a lover of your own volition? Rather than be constrained by the whims of fate?”

Claire hugged him tighter.

“I love you,” Brandon spoke confidently before pressing a kiss atop her head.

“I love you, too,” she replied, though there was the slightest falter in her voice.

* * *

The remainder of the season passed by uneventfully. The sun became sweltering and the days grew longer as summertime returned to Mineral Town.

Doctor continued his fervid studies, but he stopped just short of testing his research. He had acquired an old tome filled with the “arcane knowledge” mentioned by Dr. Hardy, but when he sifted through its dusty pages, he felt foolish. There were strange recipes and illustrations scrawled within it, as well as preposterous-sounding “incantations.”

Doctor's analytical mind would not allow him to believe such a fanciful book as reality.

It was maddening to invest himself in so much research only to come up empty-handed and as clueless as before.

It was maddening to still feel the pull of this unrelenting impulse.

It was maddening to accept this instinct as a physiological reality that superseded his rational thought and preyed on the basest, most animalistic facets of his psyche.

The doctor felt as if he were on a ledge.

What happened next was a free fall.

It was a warm summer night, illuminated by fireflies, with maestro cicadas playing their yearning symphonies. A summer night not dissimilar to any of those before.

It was quite late, but the doctor had fallen asleep at his desk after another busy day capped off with endless research.

A loud banging at the clinic's door startled him awake.

“Ah, Gotts,” the doctor greeted the burly lumberjack after unlocking the door. “Are you alright? What brings you here at this hour?”

“Glad t'see yer still awake,” the man spoke gruffly. “I found this gal out cold in the mountains. Seemed t'be from exhaustion, but she's a bit scraped up, too. Figured I oughtta drop her off here.”

“Yes, that's quite prudent of you,” the doctor replied as he blinked away the haze of sleep. His stomach dropped when he recognized the woman Gotts was holding. “Could I ask you to help carry her to the exam room while you're here?” The doctor attempted to speak evenly despite the hammering in his chest.

“Ain't a problem,” Gotts replied as he delivered her to the room. He gently placed her onto the bed and said, “Thanks again, Doc,” before leaving.

Doctor trembled as he surveyed the woman in front of him. _I need to go wake Elly up,_ his mind repeated on a loop. For some reason, he was unable to move.

The air in the room felt oddly electrified.

Claire woke up in a daze. Her eyes blinked slowly as she took in her surroundings. She wondered why her heart was beating so fast.

And then, she saw him.

She jolted up within the bed and hugged her legs against her chest as she stared at him with wide eyes. “Not good,” she managed to utter, albeit shakily.

“No…” the doctor rasped with a sudden soreness in his throat.

11:53 PM. He committed his most grievous sin as a man.

It was impossible to tell who moved first, whose hand made the first connection, who escalated the touch.

All the doctor could feel was _pleasure_ , as if his nerves were on fire in the best way, as if tiny bolts of electricity erupted wherever their skin made contact. It was dizzying, it was overwhelming, it was indescribably _maddening_.

His head was swimming when he realized they were both half-dressed, seeking more of this raw connection that ignited their bodies. He couldn't think – his mind had been overtaken by the white noise. It was almost as if he were divorced from his corporeal form and observing his actions from the third-person.

 _It feels good. It feels_ so _good._

His mouth was on hers. He was _in_ her.

His stomach twisted as he tried to comprehend the gravity of this situation.

She was on top of him, her arms clasped tightly around him as if she were about to fall to her death.

The pleasure came to a crescendo and he was gasping and shuddering against her, trying to grasp onto any semblance of clarity. He looked at her through blurry eyes.

“Elly…”

_No, this isn't…_

He snapped to his senses as he pushed Claire away from him.

He realized she was crying. Her chest heaved with small sobs that soon grew into mournful wails.

He realized he was crying, too.

* * *

The next morning, Elly noticed the farmer asleep in the clinic and lightly chastised the doctor.

“You didn't scare her again, did you?” she said with puffed cheeks. “You could have woken me up, you know.”

“Yes,” the doctor responded flatly. “I should have.”

“Hmm.” Elly looked over the doctor. He always seemed a bit tired, but today it was especially pronounced. “Didn't get much sleep? Take it easy today, okay? I can cover for you if you need to take some time off. There aren't many appointments today.” She smiled warmly.

The doctor weakly smiled back. “Thank you, I'll think about it,” he replied.

“Of course. We're in this together, after all.” Elly pressed a quick peck against the doctor's cheek before turning to leave.

When she left the room, the ruffles of her dress trailed behind her.

The doctor sighed. His heart was racing and there was a gnawing uneasiness in his stomach, yet he felt completely numb.

He continued to sit there, hunched over his desk, staring at the papers in front of him with unfocused eyes. The white noise hummed in his head.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice eventually spoke from the edge of the office.

Doctor looked at his clock. Somehow he had spaced out for almost an hour, yet it felt like the blink of an eye.

“Can I help you?” the doctor replied as he straightened his posture.

“Claire is here, correct? Your nurse said that you could elucidate her condition to me…”

Doctor carefully observed the red-haired man in front of him. “Ah, yes. She collapsed last night due to fatigue. She also had a minor abrasion which has been treated.” He swallowed before continuing. “She should continue to rest today, but otherwise, she is free to return home upon waking up.”

“I see.” The man's shoulders relaxed after hearing the doctor's words. “You have my sincerest thanks, Doctor. May I visit her now?”

“Yes, she is immediately down the hall,” the doctor answered curtly.

Brandon nodded in response before leaving.

The doctor exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

* * *

Claire was sleeping soundly on the clinic bed as Brandon made his way toward her.

“Good morning – well, good afternoon,” Brandon spoke with a chuckle. He brought a hand to her face and gently caressed her in an attempt to rouse her. He noticed her eyes looked somewhat swollen.

“Mm,” Claire groaned as she turned her face against Brandon's hand. “Brandon? Where are we?”

“The clinic,” he replied softly.

Claire jolted as she awoke fully.

“Do you remember? Gotts told me he found you last night. I'm truly sorry I was not there for you.”

Claire's heart began to race.

“I know you are passionate about your work, but you mustn't overexert yourself like that. You worried me.”

Tears began to sting at Claire's eyes.

“Today you can rest. I already took the liberty of tending to your farm. Everything is in order.” Brandon suddenly noticed Claire's contorted expression. “Hm? What's wrong?”

“I'm sorry,” Claire sobbed. “I'm sorry!”

Brandon furrowed his brow. “You needn't apologize,” he replied. “I understand – ”

Claire buried her face against Brandon's chest and continued to sob.

* * *

The next day, Doctor took the afternoon off at Elly's behest.

He found himself at the town's church, kneeling inside the confessional, with clammy hands and a racing pulse.

His words died on his lips.

* * *

“Wha – oh!”

Claire snapped her eyes shut and gripped Brandon's shirt with a white-knuckled fist.

Brandon chuckled. “You have to trust me,” he teasingly chided. He continued leading her movements with confidence.

Step, step, slide.

“I _do_ trust you,” Claire grumbled as she steadied her arm against Brandon's shoulder. “I just don't trust _myself.”_ She focused her eyes on Brandon's smooth movements and attempted to mirror them.

Step, step, slide.

“Admittedly, you do lack a bit of grace,” he sighed as he slowly turned her. “But luckily for you, I am an excellent teacher.”

Claire deliberately stepped on his foot.

_“Ow!”_

“How about a snack break?” she suggested with an innocent grin.

They sat beneath their usual tree atop Mother's Hill. Claire balanced a picnic basket on her knees and rummaged through its contents.

“You're a man of many talents, aren't you? I never would've guessed you have formal training in ballroom dancing.” Claire unwrapped a dessert and placed it onto a dish.

“I am but what you see in front of you,” Brandon spoke dramatically with a hand against his chest.

Claire gave a sputtering laugh and almost dropped the dessert. “Yeah, yeah.” She sighed as she composed herself. “You know, I feel like there's still so much I don't know about you.”

“I could say the same about you,” Brandon retorted.

Claire stiffened. “W-what do you mean?”

“Who knows.” Brandon laughed quietly. “But don't fret. We have a lifetime ahead of us to continue learning about one another.”

“Y-yeah. You're right.” Claire seemed relieved as she pushed the dessert toward Brandon. “Here. It's for you!”

Brandon bit into it dutifully. “Mmm.”

“How is it?” Claire asked eagerly.

He finished the bite and replied, “Here, I'll give you a taste.”

He pulled her face to his in a deep kiss. Claire could taste the sweet red bean paste on his tongue.

Brandon smirked as she pulled away with a blush.

“…it's good…” she managed to speak shyly. She grabbed a snack for herself from the picnic basket.

“You know,” Brandon began between bites, “we will have an opportunity to dance with one another during the upcoming wedding. I'll make certain you are proficient by then.”

“Wedding?” Claire shot Brandon a confused look.

“Oh? Were you not aware? Gotts informed me. It is between the town's doctor and nurse.”

Claire felt her insides run cold.

“I am… not normally one for social events, as you are aware. But love is such a joyous occasion, is it not? Perhaps I can even glean a spark of inspiration from attending.”

Claire could feel her heart begin to pound as her stomach knotted.

“Will you accompany me?” Brandon asked with an outstretched hand.

“Yes, of course.” Claire grabbed at his hand with both of hers.

Brandon couldn't help but notice the dampness of her palms and the transient sadness that had returned to her face.

* * *

Doctor realized he was running out of options.

He was also consumed by an overwhelming guilt.

Despite his spiraling thoughts, one thing remained resolutely true: he loved Elly.

When he procured the blue feather, he wasn't sure whether it was a penance or a means to solidify that conviction. He simply knew he had to do _something._

7:59 PM.

He stood there, on that same beach, under that same summer sunset, where he first confessed to Elly. She was beside him, again, the ruffles of her dress billowing in the breeze. She looked somewhat nervous as she gazed at the sea.

It was so similar to the first time, but this time it felt so _wrong._

“It's been a while since we did this,” Elly spoke shyly. “…it's nice.”

When he presented the blue feather to her, the nervousness on her face instantly disappeared and was replaced by giddy excitement.

“So _this_ is why you've been acting so strange lately!” she exclaimed. A relieved giggle floated from her lips before she added, “Of course my answer is yes!”

* * *

A week passed by in an instant.

He stood tall at the altar, nervous and excited. The organ's music was loud in his ears, but the white noise was louder.

His breath caught in his throat as he watched Elly begin her way down the aisle. The ruffles of her wedding dress trailed behind her.

He looked at the clock.

* * *

Claire felt numb as she sat in the church pew. Her heart pounded in her ears as she attempted to focus on the ceremony.

The words and proceedings from the altar sounded garbled to her.

Until he spoke.

“Elly… you are my guiding light. You complement me in every aspect of my life – as a professional, and as a man. I am… incredibly fortunate to have this opportunity to dedicate myself to you entirely.”

Tears began to drip from Claire's eyes.

Brandon squeezed at her thigh and whispered, “Beautiful, isn't it?”

* * *

The day had been long but enjoyable.

Doctor was currently nestled against Elly's sleeping form. He smiled as he hugged her close and listened to the rising and falling of her soft breaths. She had looked radiant today – even more beautiful than he could have imagined. He knew he should be feeling overjoyed right now.

But where his heart should have been filled, there was still an emptiness.

He resented the way his body remembered _that_ touch.

The way he still found himself unconsciously longing for it, even in their marital bed, was cruelly unfair.

He suddenly rose from the bed, careful not to disturb his slumbering wife.

After quickly getting dressed, he treaded down the stairs to the clinic.

He pulled a heavy, old tome from the bottom of his bookshelf and sighed as he dropped it onto his desk.

Like a man possessed, he flipped through its pages, trailing his finger along its text while his heart began to race. When he came upon the page he was looking for, he froze. He swallowed audibly before gathering various ingredients stashed within his office.

He used a mortar and pestle to grind together the hodgepodge of unusual components – grasses and leaves, dried chili peppers, cow bile and chicken feathers, various herbs, and a poisonous mushroom. He suspended the concoction into a glass bottle filled with spring water.

His hands were trembling as he carefully placed the bottle onto his desk. He struck a match and stared at its flame for a brief moment before lighting a candle.

He looked back to the old book.

He swallowed again before beginning to recite the strange words scrawled within. He started to laugh as the words fell from his lips. This wasn't logical.

He felt positively deranged.

But he was desperate.

With a still-trembling hand, he tipped the bottle against his lips and swallowed.

Immediately, he knew it was a mistake.

His chest burned as he began to cough violently. There was a sudden pain in his head and his breathing started to feel restricted, as if his lungs couldn't quite fill to capacity. His heart pounded more threateningly than ever before. His vision blurred as blood from his throat spattered against his desk.

The white noise continued.

This was just one more failure to add to his mounting list.

The doctor summoned all of his remaining strength to stand, but he immediately fell to the floor. Books toppled and glass jars shattered around him.

“Doctor?” Elly's voice was urgent from the edge of the room. “Doctor! What happened?!”

She quickly tiptoed around the broken glass and lifted the doctor into a sitting position. Blood smeared on his mouth as he continued coughing.

“Doctor? Doctor! What is all of this?” Each word was spoken more frantically than the one before. She started to cry as her hands gripped tightly against the doctor's shoulders. She shook him forcefully before releasing her hands.

Despite the violent trembling of her body, Elly steadied herself on her feet in attempt to glean any information she could about the situation. When she looked at his desk, she saw the open book.

“To… dissolve a fated bond… soulmates?” Elly's voice shakily read aloud. She looked to the doctor, who was weakly beginning to stand. “What… what is this? You… you…”

The doctor gripped against the desk for purchase. “Elly…” he rasped as the coughing subsided.

“You…” her voice became more pointed as sobs wracked her body. “It's Claire, isn't it? Isn't it?! I'm not stupid, you know! I'm not…” Her shoulders shook as she continued to cry. “You have to _talk_ to me! You can't hide something like this! Or try to fix it yourself!”

“I'm sorry,” the doctor choked out. He realized he was crying, too.

“But you chose me, right? You found your soulmate, but you chose me!” Elly wailed as she suddenly grabbed the doctor's shoulders. “You chose _me!”_

Her voice sounded urgent, as if she was trying to convince herself, and it seemed like she was searching for something in the doctor's face.

But he wasn't sure what.

* * *

Claire had grown up believing in the prospect of soulmates as something incredibly joyous. It sounded just like a fairytale – like the ones her grandpa would tell her about the goddess in the pond – except, somehow, this one was true. A first touch that would ignite your skin, fill you with dizzying euphoria, and magnetize you to one another – it sounded like a divine blessing.

But now Claire knew it was a curse.

Claire was shocked when her soulmate immediately rejected her. That wasn't how the fairytale was supposed to go.

Somehow, she had accepted it. She didn't want to cause him trouble or derail his life; he was her soulmate, after all. She wanted him to be happy, even if that meant with someone else.

At least, that's what she told herself.

She attempted to build a dam in her mind to protect her from the protestations of her instinct. She ignored the impulse, the pull, the white noise as best she could.

But that dam was beginning to break.

 _He's my soulmate. He's_ my _soulmate._

Her mind was looping the phrase as her heart thumped and her stomach twisted. It was almost as if her skin was buzzing – she was being consumed from the inside out by an anxiety that felt as if it were ingrained in every nerve of her body.

Her irrational mind, governed by instinct and _fate,_ wanted _him._

She pulled at her hair in frustration, yanking it out of the twisted updo she wore for the wedding.

She was still wearing her black dress and high heels as she walked aimlessly toward Mother's Hill. It was getting late now – the crescent moon hung from the black canvas of the sky, surrounded by pinholes of light. Claire stared at sky, as if in a trance, as she continued along the mountain path.

Those thoughts, the ones which weren't truly hers, grew louder in her head.

_I shouldn't have listened to him. I shouldn't have let him go. I should have pursued him! I'm supposed to be with him! He's my soulmate!_

“Shut up! Shut up!” She pressed her hands firmly against her ears and started sobbing.

She tried to think about Brandon – her patient, caring, devoted lover. Her _normal_ lover. One who could never fill this primal, gaping emptiness.

“No! No!”

Her vision was blurry and her ankle rolled slightly as she came upon the Goddess Pond. She stared at it, unblinking, as she kicked off her high heels.

Every day, she made little offerings of crops and flowers to the goddess from her grandpa's fairytales. The superstitious part of her brain wanted to believe it was true. Every day, she made the same wish: to remove the soulmate bond.

Her offerings were never enough.

Claire decided to offer herself.

She dipped her toes into the water. She knew it was cold, but she couldn't entirely feel it. She sat on the rocks at the edge of the pond, her dress hiking up behind her as she slowly slid into it, taking in a deep breath right before she was fully submerged.

Claire coiled herself into a ball, legs drawn against her and arms crossed tightly around them, and began to sink. Tiny air bubbles floated around her as she started to release her breath.

Her chest ached from the pounding of her heart. It reverberated loudly in her ears, amplified by the pressure of the water, yet she could still hear those damn thoughts.

_Soulmate. Soulmate._

She just wanted them to stop.

Her body tensed for a moment, and then –

She breathed in.

Immediately, the alarm bells of self-preservation began blaring. Her eyes snapped open and she started thrashing wildly against the water. Her lungs were on fire, her chest felt heavy from the water within it, everything inside her body _hurt._ She was consumed by sheer terror and panic as she continued to flail, growing dizzier with each movement, until – she felt calm.

It was a strange calmness, one that washed over her like sudden relief, lulling her into a sense of peace she had never known before. She wasn't afraid anymore. Her mind was blissfully quiet.

Her vision began to spot, like fuzzy blots of ink spilling in front her of her eyes, until everything was black.

* * *

Since Gotts had found Claire collapsed in the mountains over a week ago, Brandon had made it a nightly routine to survey the area, just in case. It helped set his mind at ease. Usually, he'd finish the stroll uneventfully, grateful to have one less worry regarding Claire.

Tonight would be different.

He started up the path to Mother's Hill, taking the winding entrance from its base, hiking upward toward the Goddess Pond when he spied something strange with the shine of his flashlight – a pair of high heels. An uneasy anxiety began to run through him as he shifted his gaze to the pond.

He saw blonde hair splayed within it. He felt his blood run cold.

The next moments felt as if they occurred in slow-motion, yet were somehow instant. He found himself jumping into the pond, retrieving Claire's body, and returning her to the surface, every moment a quick snapshot in his mind. Her body felt unsettlingly limp, like a rag doll, as he positioned her onto the ground.

He brought his ear to her face, trying to listen for any sign of breathing, but it was hard to focus over his own heavy panting and the way his heart rang in his ears. The adrenaline surging through his body made him feel almost weightless.

He picked up her arm with his own trembling hand and brought his fingers to her wrist.

_No. No. No. Please! No!_

He felt suddenly nauseous and tears stung at his eyes.

Quickly, he brought the heels of his hands to her chest, trying to count out a rhythm as he pushed firmly.

_One, two, three, four, five…_

His vision blurred as he continued the steady compressions. After a while, he tipped her head back, pinched her nose, and breathed two deep breaths into her. He continued the chest compressions – grounding himself in the rhythm, feeling his weight return, his heartbeat receding from his ears – until Claire took a ragged breath.

“Claire!”

She vomited a torrent of pond water before being wracked by coughs, spluttering and gasping in-between. Her vision was hazy, as if she were looking through stained glass. She could hear a man's voice and feel pressure against her body, but her mind was too foggy to comprehend what was going on.

“Claire! Thank god, Claire!”

“Brandon?” Her voice was weak and she continued coughing. “Brandon… I…” Within the fogginess, she began to remember, piece by piece. She started to cry.

“Claire, what happened?!”

She could hardly see, but she could hear the wavering in Brandon's sore voice. She brought a hand to his face and realized he was crying, too.

“He... He…” Claire began to sob amidst the coughs. “He's my soulmate! My soulmate! I'm so sorry!”

“What, what do you…”

“The doctor! He's my soulmate!” Claire began to wail.

She was thankful she couldn't see Brandon's expression.

“But I love you! _I love you!”_ Claire was screaming now. Her voice was piercing and mournful, punctuated by a jagged cough. _“I love you! I love you!”_

Brandon hugged her close. Claire could feel the pounding of his heart against her own.

“I love you, Claire,” he spoke in a broken voice as he sobbed against her.

* * *

Brandon stood in front of the clinic with Claire in his arms. He was filled with hesitation and looming dread, but he eventually knocked upon the door.

He was surprised when it opened almost immediately.

Elly stood in front of him with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She glanced to Claire's resting body and gave Brandon a knowing look before leading them through the clinic.

They didn't converse much beyond the essential information. Claire was admitted for the night and continued sleeping soundly.

As Brandon sat next to her bed, Elly returned to the room with a towel and a cup of tea.

“Thank you,” Brandon replied graciously, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Of course.” Elly gave a strained smile.

After a beat of silence, they both found themselves blinking away tears.

* * *

Brandon returned with Claire to her farmhouse the next morning.

There was an uncomfortable tension between them at first. Neither of them quite knew what to say.

Brandon felt like he was finally beginning to understand Claire's sadness.

“First order of business,” he declared as they arrived at her home. “Let's get you cleaned up.”

They both stripped in the bathroom, removing their stiffly-dried clothes which reeked of pond water. Brandon pulled her by the hand into the shower, where he gave her a preliminary scrubbing before drawing the bath.

They collapsed together in the cramped tub as steam wafted into the air. Brandon ran his fingers through Claire's hair, carefully beginning to detangle it and picking out stray bits of debris. He soon massaged shampoo into her scalp with firm fingertips.

“Mm.” Claire leaned her head back and met Brandon's eyes. She teared up instantly. “You know I love you, right?” Her tone was somewhat pleading.

Brandon smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Yes,” he replied as he pulled her toward him with slippery hands. “I love you, too. So much that… I cannot fathom losing you.” His voice cracked as he spoke. He sniffed as he attempted to will away tears, but they still dripped down his face.

There was a pause filled with the sound of sloshing water as he rinsed out the shampoo.

He began smoothing conditioner into her hair, running it from root to tip with evenly spread fingers, gently working out every tangle.

“I'm sorry,” Claire eventually choked out. “I'm so sorry.” The tears were falling freely from her eyes now.

Brandon leaned his head against hers and swallowed hard, before saying, “I know.”

* * *

That night, they made desperate love. Claire dug her fingernails into his back, marking him with bloodied crescents, and locked her legs tightly around him.

“More! Make me feel more!” Claire begged as she clung to him. “Make me only feel you!”

Brandon complied as best he could.

As he shuddered against her, his seed dripping from where they connected, he felt possessive of her in a way that startled him.

She fell asleep wrapped in his arms. As he watched her, he remembered something she had said before, about preferring serendipity over fate.

He pressed a kiss atop her head before closing his eyes.

He agreed.

* * *

A season passed by uneventfully. The heat of the summer eased away as fall's cool embrace settled in. Just the same as the year before, just the same as the year to come.

Doctor was seated with his wife in the corner of the town's restaurant. It was lively and bustling with nearly every villager in attendance.

Elly had an inscrutable expression on her face as she swirled her drink in her glass. It was an expression the doctor had become accustomed to.

“How about another farewell toast!” Karen's loud voice rang out in the restaurant. “If only you could have one last drink with me, Claire!”

Claire laughed as she took in the revelry around her. Brandon's arm slipped against her side. She leaned into him with a contented sigh.

“So yer some sorta big shot now, eh? Well, y'better mention my name in yer acceptance speech when you start winnin' awards, y'hear?” Gotts had ambled beside the couple, promptly slapping Brandon on the back.

“But of course,” Brandon responded, rubbing slightly at his sore back. “It was because of your unyielding generosity that I was able to dedicate myself so fully to my craft in the first place.”

“So what exactly was it you have lined up in the city?” Ran was beside them now, her arms filled with empty beer mugs.

“His sculptures are being displayed at a prestigious art gallery,” Claire beamed proudly as she leaned against Brandon's shoulder. “We were a bit hesitant at first, but…”

“I would be a fool not to accept such an opportunity,” Brandon continued for Claire. “Even though it means reintegrating myself into society and quantifying my art, my labor, and consequently, my own self-worth with capitalistic value…” He brought his hand to his chin in a contemplative manner. “But I suppose I have more than just myself to worry about now.” He pulled Claire closer to him.

“Pah! Artists, I tell ya,” Gotts spoke with a chuckle.

“So you're leaving the farming life behind?” Rick asked as he sidled up next to Karen.

“Well, yeah, it seemed like a good time to ease off, considering…” Claire gestured to her pregnant belly.

“Haha! Yeah, that makes sense! Well, we'll miss you,” Karen answered before pushing out her bottom lip. “Remember, you'll always have friends in Mineral Town!” Karen leaned down to address Claire's belly. “You too, little one! If you ever feel like running away, Auntie Karen's here!”

The group of friends continued laughing, but an air of sadness seemed to envelop them.

It was 8:47 PM.

Doctor never saw Claire again.

* * *

Things never seemed to change much in Mineral Town.

Drifters came and went, becoming stories on the townspeople's tongues.

Seasons passed by like clockwork. The remnants of nature were frozen by winter's creeping chill as if in a stasis. It was comforting in its sameness to the previous year.

The white noise in the doctor's head became quieter.

Icy dormancy melted into green life.

Claire had arranged for a new farmer to take over her grandpa's old farm come spring. He was a distant cousin of hers with previous experience as a farmhand.

The doctor learned his name was Pete. He was an affable young man with a friendly smile and a perpetually-backwards cap. He'd surely fit in fine.

_Tick-tock, tick-tock._

He first walked into the clinic at 2:26 PM.

Something strange happened when he shook Elly's hand.


End file.
